


All I ever wanted was a part of you that I couldn't break

by theyoungv_eins



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst, Hurt, M/M, Mentions of the ONS, Rob's Big Feelings, Second person POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 08:31:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15239466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyoungv_eins/pseuds/theyoungv_eins
Summary: The guilt is tearing you apart inside. Clawing out of you through your chest until all that’s left is cracked bones and torn flesh. Ripping through you like a bullet and piercing through your lungs for a second time. You wonder how long it’ll be before you inevitably bleed out from your wounds.





	All I ever wanted was a part of you that I couldn't break

**Author's Note:**

> i'm back!!!!   
> this is my first robron fic since january. i'm hoping i can write more often soon! 
> 
> the absolutely horrible title comes from [me without you by all time low](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TzHuXUdyQrs)  
> not sure if the entire song fits robron too well lolol  
> i started writing this on the 27th of march, 2017

You’re immediately consumed by the guilt of what you’ve done.

The bed remains in the same spot, the sheets still disheveled.

It takes you an hour of standing there and staring before you’re sliding down the wall and hiding your face in your hands. The house creaks with disappointment and disgust. You agree.

Just like that, you become Robert Sugden, Certified Fuck Up. You betrayed the one person you love the most. The one person you never wanted to betray, to hurt, ever again. And not even a month after you sat in that dingy garage and said your vows and smiled and kissed and _loved each other_.

Now, you’re not even sure that you deserve love from Aaron. Chas doesn’t seem to think so, of course, and perhaps she never has. Perhaps she’s right.

You honestly wouldn’t blame him if he stopped loving you – if he couldn’t bring himself to. Even if it’d kill you, you’d understand.

The guilt is tearing you apart inside. Clawing out of you through your chest until all that’s left is cracked bones and torn flesh. Ripping through you like a bullet and piercing through your lungs for a second time. You wonder how long it’ll be before you inevitably bleed out from your wounds.

You want to curse. To scream and cry and shout until your lungs just don’t work anymore. But you don’t. You’re not a crier, not really. You’re more prone to outbursts; throwing things, punching and kicking and drinking. But that’s what got you into this mess in the first place. So, all you’re left with is this guilt, and it’s like a demon, latching onto your back and draining every last morsel of life from you.

You’re not as strong as Aaron is now. You bottle it until it becomes too much, and then you do something unbelievably stupid. (Like push someone through the floorboards, when all you wanted to do was warn them. Like saying horrible things to Aaron, when he doesn’t deserve it – will _never_ deserve it. Like sleep with Rebecca White, just because you were lonely and upset and drunk.)

You crack, though. You lose all sense of self control, and you get rid of the bed as soon as humanly possible. You kick it and break it and tear it apart, because it’s a reminder of what you’ve done. It’s _mocking_ you, throwing it back in your face and making it so much worse. It’s an expensive bed, and sending it back would save you about two-hundred and fifty quid, but breaking it helps. Letting your frustration and your guilt out on it helps.

When you’re done, you sit yourself down in the only corner of the room that’s free of any destruction. And you look at the absolute wreck that the room has become. It makes you wince.

Part of you wants to just run away. Get into your car and drive as far away as you can. Or get on a plane and start a new life somewhere, like Barcelona or a lonely island in Greece. But you can’t leave Vic, not again. Especially not now, when she’s about to start her own family. But you can’t leave Liv, because she’s like your sister. Or your daughter. Or something. You love her to death, even if she is difficult sometimes. You think that maybe it’s because there’s so much of Aaron in her.

But, most of all though, you can’t leave Aaron. You love him too much to. Even if he does eventually throw you out to the curb, you can’t leave him. Because, of course you’ll always be there for him if he needs you.

You can only hope that he’ll let you.

 

Keeping it from Aaron. That’s the worst part.

All you want to do is tell him. You want him to be angry, to punish you and give you what you deserve. Yell at you, shove you, tell you it’s over. Well, okay. Obviously, you don’t want him to tell you it’s over. But would anyone blame him if he did?

You couldn’t bear it if he ended things. But you would understand, because you don’t deserve Aaron’s forgiveness.

You just don’t want him to hurt, because he’s already done so much of that already. Of course, he’s going to hurt, though. He’s going to hurt _so much_ and you won’t be able to bear it, knowing that it’s all because of you. He went to jail because of you, he’s hurt because of you, he _will be_ hurt because of you.

You know it’s going to kill him, because he was so insecure about Rebecca for so long. He was so scared that you’d chose her. That you’d just forget about him and go to her, because he didn’t think he was good enough. You thought he was being irrational. Kept telling him over and over that he had nothing to worry about, because you love him, and no one comes close, and you want to be with him, and only him.

But what do you do? You prove him right. You cheat on him, and you prove Chas right, and you prove Paddy right. You prove everyone who knew that you’d fuck up right.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad, if you had slept with anyone else. Gone to some seedy bar in Hotten and went home with someone. Perhaps that’d hurt even less.

But no. You texted Rebecca, who is (was?) your friend, who lives in the same tiny village as you, who’s _always there._ She’s a constant reminder of what you’ve done – just like that bed was. Only this time, you can’t lash out on anyone but yourself.

_What the fuck were you thinking?_ You knew that sleeping with Rebecca would hurt him the most. You texted her because you knew just how to manipulate her. How to get what you wanted from her. She hasn’t changed one bit. Still just as eager to jump back into bed with you.

It’s hard not to feel bad for her. At least a little. You took advantage of her vulnerability, just so you can… what? Get back at your husband for having a hard time and lashing out at you a little? And yeah, of course, you were vulnerable, too. _Drunk_ and vulnerable – the worst combination. You’re not completely at fault for the fact that it happened in the first place, but you are completely at fault for hurting Aaron and betraying his trust.

You’re scared to think of what Aaron’s reaction to all of this will be. Hurt and betrayed, definitely. A panic attack, a relapse, maybe. You hope not. You never want him to go through that ever again. And maybe it’s selfish, but the fact that it’s because of you (yet again) would kill you even more.

 

He stays with you.

Even after you tell him what happened.

He stays with you, and he listens to you as you endlessly apologise and cry and beat yourself up. You tell him about the bed that you completely destroyed, and about the nights where you couldn’t do anything except cry yourself to sleep. Because the guilt _finally_ got the best of you.

He listens to you when you tell him about all the times that you couldn’t even sleep – the days when your entire life was fuelled by caffeine and the _need_ to keep the scrapyard running smoothly. And how you can’t even look yourself in the mirror anymore because the disgust throbbing in your chest is just too much.

Aaron lets you curl up next to him and lay your head on his shoulder, and you just _talk_ about it. For the first time, you sit and talk about your problems, and figure out how to move on from here.

Neither of you really know how it’ll work out. You definitely know that it’ll take some time. A lot of time.

But you’ll wait for him. You’ll wait until the end of the Earth for things to be okay again. For him to finally be able to look at you again.

When you’re wrapping yourself around Aaron in the darkness of your bedroom, and you can feel love filling up your lungs like air, you realise – not for the first time – that you’ve never loved anyone as much as you love Aaron.

It’s both comforting and absolutely terrifying.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! comments and kudos are appreciated, as always <3  
> find me on tumblr [@wefllag-n](http://wefllag-n.tumblr.com)


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